Review: Arthur Miller’s The Crucible

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SPENCER BAILEY, QUINN HARRIS, & HILARY FENDER
<Contributors>

On the evening of Nuit Blanche, your Mock Trial producers took a trip down to the charming distillery district to Soulpepper Theatre, one of Toronto’s most reliable theatres for classic productions. The show was Arthur Miller’s The Crucible, the same playwright who penned Death of a Salesman. This play was written in 1952 as a reaction to the McCarthy anti-communist witch-hunt in the United States; only a few years later Miller himself was brought in front of McCarthy’s committee. The Crucible is a compelling insight into the lives of the husbands, wives, children, priests, lawyers, and judges that were part of the horrific Salem Witch Trials in Massachusetts between 1692 and 1693. Below is a critique of the play by Hilary, Spencer and Quinn.

Spencer [S]: I walked away from The Crucible thinking it was a show about two things: moral outrage and moral courage. I have not read the play before and so I did not know what to expect from the lead character, John Proctor. The basic plot follows Proctor as he navigates suspicious neighbours, pleading priests, and hell-fire judges in order to save his wife from being pronounced a witch and sent to jail or hanged. It is powerful stuff, and Stuart Hughes, a Soulpepper player and founding member, ensures that each audience member feels his rage, frustration, and moral dilemmas.

Quinn [Q]: There were certainly some stellar performances in this production. The intense second half was played out as a children’s game run horribly afoul, to superbly unsettling effect. A key theme for me was highlighted by the judge’s misguided sense that it’s best to maintain your convictions than to question them or admit you could be wrong. It was the point at which fear mongering became a runaway train, and that message maintains its relevancy whether the dirty word is “witch,” “communist,” or “terrorist.” I had a harder time sympathizing with Proctor’s moral dilemmas . It is revealed that Proctor’s adulterous affair with Abigail Williams (played by Hannah Miller) is to blame for Abigail’s jealous attempt to destroy and replace his wife by accusing her of witchcraft. However, I couldn’t help but feel bothered by the way Abigail, a troubled young girl, became the pariah, and Proctor became the moral hero. Even Proctor’s wife blames herself for his lechery because she was a “cold wife” and they fail to discredit Abigail because she lies to protect his reputation.

Hilary [H]: I too had a tough time truly sympathizing with Proctor in his final march to the gallows. After watching Proctor struggle against justice, truth and an impending martyr execution, I asked myself the question I always ask during troubling times: WWJBD (What would Justin Bieber do?). I know that ‘Biebs’ wasn’t up against a death sentence in his recent paternity scare, and fervently denied all accusations. However, based on what I know about JB, he would have taken the sensible route and signed the freaking confession had his life been on the line.* Love trumps pride, and Selena, along with the rest of Gen Y would have understood. Plus, Proctor didn’t have to deal with the global media soiling his good name, merely his 600 odd Salem neighbours.

Get over it Proctor! I gained a similar soiled reputation by just as many people after accidentally serving my entire camp condensed soup without any added water.** What I found most interesting about this play was Miller’s focus on the “individualness” of this problem. While the hysteria and power of a teenage girl’s jealousy is fascinating, there were some other significant forces at play in Salem at the time. There was heated debate within the village as to how independent Salem Village should be from Salem Town, the larger neighbouring town and centre of sea trade in the area. John Putnam led the separatist group and chose to hire Samuel Parris as the village’s own minister, separate from Salem Town. This context is necessary to understand why the Putnams and Parris looked so unfavorably upon Proctor and his occasional church attendance. Not only did it indicate Proctor’s lack of commitment to the Puritan church, but the Putnams may also have sensed political convictions that could potentially harm their separatist cause. This adds another interesting layer to the simmering tensions created by the fear and finger-pointing.

S: Hilary, I can see you’ve done your research. OK, it is true Proctor is not exactly a moral hero, but I think he is certainly a complex character, who admits to his strengths and faults, and in the end makes a very fascinating decision. If no John Proctors took stands against backwards systems of law and principles, then those very systems would still be around today, wouldn’t they? Sure, he could have left that job to someone else without a wife and children, but whatever sense of duty or ethics that compelled him to head to the gallows is surely intriguing. Oddly enough, the man with the least religious convictions was also least afraid of death. Are you really calling out Arthur Miller’s character?

H: I’m not saying Proctor didn’t make some big statements about the messed up system. His most admirable moment was when he refuses to blacken the names of anyone else in Salem. But let’s be honest, in the context of the play at least, Abigail never would have started this wild witch-hunt had it not been for Proctor’s indiscretions. A character blinded by pride (hubris? You like that Quinn?) is interesting to watch, but this trait has lost its romance. Didn’t Proctor know what happened to all of the prideful Greek heroes? Has he never read Too Big to Fail? Spoiler alert: people end up dead, broke, or with some sort of horrific eternal fate. Proctor arrogantly thinks that he can have an affair, repent by apologizing to his wife (puh-lease) and then do the “right” thing by dying to save his good name. Sadly, he ends up looking like a bit of an asshole when he forgets his real life obligations and chooses to leave behind his wife with a bunch of sons and a baby on the way.

Q: Hubris– good one Hilary. There is something inherently selfish, and presumptive to the whole concept of martyrdom. As for Arthur Miller’s own character, it’s interesting to note that when Miller was put in Proctor’s situation in front of McCarthy’s committee, he also refused to name names, though all that was at stake was a contempt charge, blacklisting, and a $500 fine. All were overturned. But then, McCarthy didn’t start his whole anti-communist thing because he was jealous of Miller’s wife, Marilyn Monroe. Not to my knowledge, anyway.***

S: For me, the best moment of the play was when Abigail and her friends all pretended to be possessed by Mary, the witness that Proctor brings to discredit her. They go through a sequence of repeating everything Mary says in unison and in high-pitched voices. It was the closest thing I’ve seen to a horror movie on stage, and was a real testament to the power of live theatre. I don’t think the same scene on a screen would have had the same impact. In fact, the whole second act, which took place in a courtroom and jail cell was absolutely mesmerizing.

Q: Yes, that girlish chanting brought me straight back to the nightmares of elementary school. Arthur Miller must have been a twelve-year-old girl in another life.****  I also credit Lorenzo Savoini’s sparse set design and Stephen Hawkin’s moody lighting for enhancing the fright factor.

H: I also could not get over the voice of Judge Danforth (played by Joseph Ziegler). I can’t put my finger on exactly what it was, but it was a perfect judge voice. I still think about it.

S: Overall, the lesson learned is, if you want someone who is not available, call their spouse a witch.***** Well, I guess on second thought, Abigail did get much more than she bargained for: she killed both the wife and the object of her affections, John Proctor. She probably felt terrible for a long time after that.  Oops, right?

 

*Editor’s Note: The author’s view on potential actions taken by Justin Bieber in any given situation are not shared by the editorial staff nor any of the affiliates of this newspaper. For any further comments by Justin Bieber on what he would actually do please contact Usher.

** Editor’s Note: The negligent cooking habits of this author do not represent the culinary skills of the Obiter Dicta nor its editorial staff. The Obiter Dicta has a strict policy of always watering down our condensed soup and has several oversight bodies that ensure rigorous compliance with this policy.

*** Editor’s Note: The speculation related to whether Joseph McCarthy investigated Arthur Miller’s communist sympathies because McCarthy was jealous of Marilyn Monroe have not been verified by any fact nor evidence presented to the Obiter Dicta editorial staff. The statement used in this article is merely a rhetorical device and is not intended to bring any offence to any member of the McCarthy family, especially Jean Kerr McCarthy (Joseph’s wife).

**** Editor’s Note: The Obiter Dicta and its editorial staff do not support any single specific notion of postmortem happenings, especially not reincarnation (as referenced above).

***** Editor’s Note: The ‘lesson learned’ is a lesson that is set forth solely by the author. The Obiter Dicta’s editors always strive to teach lessons involving kindness and understanding. The lesson above is neither.

 

Spencer, Quinn, and Hilary are the producers of Mock Trial 2013, and write all of their own editor’s notes.

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